


Apparate Me

by EssentiallyAllOfIt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, EWE, F/M, HP: EWE, Het and Slash, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3491930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssentiallyAllOfIt/pseuds/EssentiallyAllOfIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I would like to tell you a story. The truest and most accurate account I can possibly conjure, because you need to understand that things at Hogwarts are never normal, reader. At least not for Harry Potter. So I ask you to journey with me now, to discover what goes wrong at Hogwarts, and how it brings together and unlikely pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The majority of these characters nor the magical Wizardry concept belong the me and all rights belong to J.K Rowling.

Crowds of first-years bustled around Harry Potter’s torso. The air held goodbyes of all sorts, hanging each farewell by its corners. In fact, it seemed much like a fishy, unwanted handshake.

You could say, I suppose, that Harry Potter had always loved this moment. It reminded him of relative freedom. No more cupboards or Dursleys, slave labour or starvation. He was free for another year. This year, however, things were very different. Harry was returning for his eighth year, and only eleven others were doing the same.

Of course, if you are reading this then you must know of the Battle of Hogwarts. You could hardly miss the rumours. Voldemort’s defeat did not go unheard of anywhere in the Wizarding world. In fact, I even watched on as the flurry of words and feelings reached as far as Japan, Mexico and New Zealand.

But the 'New Hogwarts Project' initiated a flurry of slightly smaller sizes. Many Witches and Wizards had returned during the summer to restore Hogwarts to its new and improved state, and Harry looked forward to spending the year investigating the new passages and secrets it no doubt would hold.  
But I ask you to return to the scene of Harry boarding the train, now. With Ron and Hermione hand-in-hand behind him, the Boy Who Lived ducked into the nearest compartment. He hoped that this year, after seven unruly school years, he would be able to focus for once on enjoying the year and achieving well academically. I assure you now, reader, his hopes would be flattened quite quickly.

  
The train had barely begun moving before Professor McGonagall entered their compartment and summoned them away.

"Welcome back, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter. If you could please follow me." And she was gone. The look that the three friends shared turned the atmosphere around them blue. Concern. Perhaps a little confusion. I can assure you, however, they trusted her enough to do as she said.

  
Their final destination was not somewhere they expected to be. I cannot be sure exactly what they had in fact hypothesized, but I don't believe that they knew either. They entered a room with nine other students, all ridiculously familiar faces. I could not fail to notice the first face to draw Harry's attention. Draco Malfoy. The boy who's life Harry saved. And, in fact, the boy who saved Harry's life as well. It was mutual. An unlikely mutual occurrence for the people they were, I might add.  
When Harry and Draco made eye contact, Harry was surprised to find the lack of a glare. Draco, on the other hand, was more than surprised to find that he had become even better looking over the holidays. Draco would be the first to admit to himself that he was very much attracted to the Wizarding World’s greatest celebrity, though he had no intentions at all to inform the other boy. He was after all, to surrender to house stereotypes, a Slytherin and not a Gryffindor, and huddled under the label ‘coward’ quite suitably.

  
What shocked the 'Golden Trio' the most was the presence of Draco Malfoy in general. The boy seemed ashamed to be there, which, if I think about it, was very little of a surprise considering all occurrences of the previous year. Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts' newfound, long-time-coming Headmistress, captured their attention before Ron Weasley could spit something rude and distasteful at the blonde haired boy. It would be fair to say that he continued to question Harry’s decision to save Draco.

  
“Now that you are all here, I must inform you of new arrangements.” McGonagall glanced around at the twelve of them, ensuring that their utmost attention was captivated. “As the only returning eighth years, you should be aware that we are not able to accommodate you in your usual house dormitories. In place, we have provided you with a new, combined dormitory in the east-end tower. You will have your usual common room and separate dorms for girls and boys, but each room will accommodate only two students. For convenience, you also have a study space and small library with all potentially helpful books. I can assure you that you will find this addition quite necessary.”

  
Hermione grinned excitedly. “Brilliant!” She whispered.

  
“I must warn you now, I have an aspiration that we will remove all inter-house bickering and prejudice, and learn to get along with people from other houses. So, as to set good examples for the younger students, you will be put in a dorm with a student from a separate house. Your partner during most classes will likely also be this person. I ask that you do your best to maintain open friendships and allow these to be seen by younger students.” Ron looked wary of this new information, but McGonagall continued on without hesitation. “In addition to this, to prevent any superfluous time wasting due to travelling, your entrance to and exit from the common-room must be done by apparition. A small area has been reserved for this, and you must know that while you can bring passengers, only the twelve students sitting here now will have the ability to successfully apparate to and from this space. Now, I will inform you further after the feast, but I do ask that you remain in this carriage for the train ride.” And with that, she apparated away.  
It only occurred to Harry in the headmaster’s absence that he had never seen any member of staff aside from Remus Lupin and the food carriage lady on the train. _Odd_ , he thought.

  
The students in the carriage quickly began buzzing with conversation, but Harry couldn’t shake off the feeling that a certain blonde boy was watching him. For some reason, since saving the boy from certain death after his friend’s FiendFyre incident the year before alongside breaking up with Ginny Weasley, Harry had been longing to see him. He had to confess, it was a strange experience for him.

  
“Oh no!” Ron groaned loudly, luring Harry’s attention. Hermione wore a puzzled expression.

  
“What is it?”

  
“I’ve just realised that this means that I will be separated from both of you!” Ron sounded horrified, but Hermione and Harry simply rolled their eyes.

  
“That took you a worryingly long time to establish, Ronald.” Hermione turned to look at the people around the room. “Anyway, it won’t be that bad. You won’t be with anyone awful, I can guarantee it.”

  
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ron disagreed, glaring at Draco.

  
“Come off it, Ron. I’m sure you will find that he is in fact extremely remorseful.” Ron knew better than to argue with Hermione. Instead, he initiated a new topical conversation.

  
“Do you think the lady with the sweet trolley will still be on board?” Asking all of the important questions, I can confirm. Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

  
“Of course. Do you want something?”

  
Ron looked sheepish. “Yeah, I’m sure I have a couple of knuts here somewhere.” Harry rolled his eyes and handed him ten sickles from his robe pocket.

  
“Buy whatever you want, but go and get it yourself.” Ron grinned and dashed towards the door, allowing Harry only just enough time to add, “get me something and a chocolate frog for Neville!” Hermione chuckled.

  
“He’s like a child, don’t you think?” Harry agreed with her. “We should probably take a seat.” Conceding, he slid onto the seats on one side of the table, following Hermione. It wasn’t until he was comfortably seated that he realised he had positioned himself right next to a now abnormally tense and silent Draco Malfoy. He could easily have reached out and rested his hand on Draco’s knee. Now, reader, while I’m sure you and I would both have very much enjoyed seeing the reaction this may have caused, it was to very unfortunate but potentially preferable circumstances that he did not. Instead, Harry tuned into a conversation between Theodore Nott, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom and Zachariah Smith.

  
“If you’re so interested, why don’t you just ask him if he could do it?” Theo raised his eyebrow at Neville.

  
“Well, I’m just worried that he might feel inclined to teach us even if he doesn’t want to. You know what he’s like.” Despite Neville’s newfound confidence, he had not lost his capability of over-considering others' feelings. Dean rolled his eyes.

  
“I’ll do it, then.” Before Neville could protest, Dean turned to Harry. “Hey Harry, we have a question. Will you be doing something like Dumbledore’s Army again?” Harry had to restrain from rolling his eyes over Neville’s worrying.

  
“McGonagall had already requested it of me, actually. All of us here are taking Defense Against the Dark Arts as a subject, and because they don’t have space in the option lines to be teaching it during normal classes, I will be teaching your classes instead. Not that I’m qualified, but she insisted that I simply teach you all four days a week in the same way that I taught Dumbledore’s Army, and it should be sufficient for our NEWTS. I’ll have to review the standard and everything, but it will basically be like combining Defence Against The Dark Arts and Dumbledore’s Army. Then I’ll have a weekend session as a sort of club for anyone who wanted to join. Hermione will be helping me, though, I certainly won’t be able to do it on my own.” It was then that Harry realised he had captured the entire carriage’s attention. Even Ron had listened in when he had returned. A few of the students grinned and fist-pumped at this news.

  
“That’s great, Harry!”

  
“I’m so looking forward to that!”

  
“Brilliant!”

  
Harry tried to smile as humbly as possibly, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Was he really capable of teaching all of his friends? Why had his headmistress entrusted him with this task? He shook himself out of his worry when Ron planted a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and a Chocolate Frog directly in front of him and another Chocolate Frog in front of Neville. Handing him the change, Ron requested that he shift over so he could sit beside Hermione. That, as you and I both are quite acutely aware of, meant moving even nearer to Draco. But he abided and shifted nearer, allowing himself to relish in Draco’s body heat.

  
Poor Draco Malfoy, however, seemed to me as if he were absolutely dripping with fear and discombobulation. I’m quite astonished that Harry himself didn’t notice his aura. Perhaps it was the box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans that distracted him. After accepting Neville’s enthusiastic thanks and hiding his face out of embarrassment when the card inside his Chocolate Frog box pictured his own face and facts, he proceeded to unbox his sweets. The card was, to no astonishment, being passed around. When it arrived in the hands of Draco Malfoy, Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as the blonde smirked. That was more like the Draco he knew, even if it were only a slight improvement.

  
Harry began to pour the box of beans out onto the table before Hermione stopped him. Rolling her eyes, she transfigured the box into a flat platter instead. He grinned at her almost sheepishly before having his attention dragged back to his other friends.

  
“Try the brown one, Harry, I dare you!” Seamus laughed. Harry smirked and grabbed one, popping it into his mouth in the traditional courageous Gryffindor manner. He quickly scrunched up his nose in disgust, earning himself a roar of laughter. “He got centipede! You have to swallow it!” Harry abided and smirked, pushing the plate towards Seamus.

  
“Your turn, then.” Seamus hesitated for a second before picking up a pale blue one and imitating Harry.

  
“Oh, no,” He groaned. ”I hate blue cheese!” And so the game continued, until the only person left to try one was Draco. Even Hermione had given it a go, with a relievingly sweet tasting blueberry. Harry took the plate back and pushed it along to Draco. The carriage grew quiet as he looked at the platter and then back at Harry.

  
“I dare you to try a yellow one,” Harry said, giving him an encouraging grin. Taken aback by Harry’s friendliness, Draco conceded, picking one up and hesitating.

  
“I’ve always hated these.” His voice was quiet, but his concerned face gradually turned into a restrained victorious smirk as he realised that he had managed to get lucky. “Honeycomb.”

  
Hermione quickly pulled their attention away from their little game. “We aren’t too far from Hogwarts. Everyone had better get their robes on.” Despite their disappointment at how quickly the trip had ended, they took her recommendation and prepared to exit the train.

  
By the time the twelve of them had gathered on the Thestral’s carriages (for many of them, seeing the Thestrals was a first, and came as quite a shock. I’m sure you’re aware, this is to be expected), for the most part, they had all become quite good friends. Blaise, Pansy and Draco were a little more hesitant to join in flurry of chatter, but Pansy was the one to take the step and encourage the other two in. I’m not sure about you, reader, but this hardly came as a surprise to me. Pansy, being the social gossiper she is, was probably unable to refrain for long from taking part in conversations about the occurrences over the summer holidays. She quickly dragged Blaise into it, and soon it was just Draco who remained quiet.

  
“Eighth years!” McGonagall summoned them over near the doors of the Great Hall. “Before I leave to collect the first years, I must request that you sit in your previously assigned houses for the sorting despite my requests that we develop inter-house relationships and friendships. You may mix tables afterwards, but I would like to avoid any confusion. And please remain behind after the feast, I wish to show you to your common room and instruct you further.” They all nodded in agreement, so she smiled and waved them into the stream of students piling into the Great Hall.

  
“Draco seems a little off, don’t you think?” Hermione commented when they had sat down. Harry agreed.

  
“I noticed that as well. But I suppose he would be horribly ashamed to be back after being a part of Voldemort’s inner circle.” It would be fair to say, I think, that Harry felt bad for the boy.

  
“Why is he even back, the git?” Ron grumbled.

  
“For the same reason as us, of course. He wants to be an Auror and has to finish his education.” Harry shot to his defense. “Don’t be rude.”

  
“After all the awful things he’s done?” Ron looked bewildered by Harry’s support for Draco. “What’s he to you, anyway? I thought you hated him.”

  
“Yes, well, you’re quite aware that not only did he save my life once, but his mother saved my life another time as well. I think we should give him a chance.” Harry sighed.

  
“Harry is right, Ron.” Ron pulled a face but soon became distracted by the entrance of the first years.

  
For once, Harry felt a sense of normalcy. The first years were sorted; speeches were made and nothing out of the ordinary occurred. The new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Hartung was introduced, alongside Professor Spering, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Harry hoped that this year, the teacher could prove that the job was in fact, not cursed at all. Professor Flitwick was announced as deputy headmaster, which was a position welcomed by much enthusiasm. As soon as speeches were over, Harry gathered a lot of attention. Student after student approached him with a quill and various prized possessions, requesting that he sign such possessions for them. Harry, too polite to say no, spent the entire feast signing books and parchment for people. Occasionally he would look up to find Ginny, Hermione or Neville watching him with sympathetic expressions. He just smiled slightly and returned to his signing. Much to his dismay, however, by the time the line had dispersed, so had the food. All that was left in the hall were twelve students and their headmistress. He sighed.

  
“I saved you a plate of pudding, Harry.” Luna said as she wandered over. Sure enough, she held a small container with a slice of cake. He smiled gratefully.

  
“Thanks Luna, that’s very thoughtful.”

  
“I expected that you might gather a lot of unwanted attention.” McGonagall strode over to the group that had gathered on the Gryffindor table. "Now, if you could kindly follow me.” She turned to Harry. “I trust that you have informed your friends of your teaching intentions this year?” Harry nodded. “Good, they will be held in the Great Hall, so that you have plenty of space.” She turned back to the group, and indicated to their apparition areas. One for entering the common-room, one for exiting. “I understand that at least Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have had plenty of practice in apparition over the past year, so should you have any concerns and would prefer to travel alongside someone else, I have no doubts that they would be quite happy to assist you. This also applies for anyone who does not yet have their license, or under circumstances in which you wish to tutor a student that is not an eighth year within your common room. If that is all clear and there are no questions to be asked, please go ahead and apparate. Try to keep a blank mind, you will be transported to your destination without having to visualise it for the first apparition.” Hermione stepped forward, and much to everyone’s surprise, both Seamus and Dean joined her and gripped her arm. If Hermione was at all phased, she didn’t show it for the sake of avoiding embarrassment.

  
“Ready?” They nodded and they were gone. Each student apparated, Ron taking Pansy and Theo, and the others trusting their own abilities until only Draco and Harry remained, with McGonagall watching on. Harry stepped up and prepared to apparate when he felt a cool, bony hand on his arm. Looking up, he saw Draco staring at him, a grimace masking his face. Harry just nodded and waiting for him to get ready. When Draco gave the slightest of nods, Harry turned on the spot and felt the awful, stomach crunching feeling.

  
When he landed back on his feet, he realised that Draco’s fingers had dug into his skin. Draco muttered a quiet but somewhat frenzied “I’m sorry” and pulled out his wand. With a quick “vulnera sanentur,” the slightly bloodied marks were gone. 

Harry began to tell him not to concern himself over it, but was quickly captured by his surroundings. It was amazing, really. Almost the size of the Gryffindor common room, it had a door leading into a library and study. “Silencing charms, no doubt,” Hermione had informed him. On either side were staircases, not dissimilar to Gryffindor’s. Professor McGonagall, having also arrived, pointed the boys up one staircase and the girls up the other.

  
“I recommend that you sort yourselves now and get to bed, it will be a busy day tomorrow.” Taking her advice, they received their timetables and climbed up the stairs. Harry read the names on each door, noting that Ron had been placed in the lowest dorm with Blaise. It wasn’t long before Harry discovered that he had been assigned to the very top dorm, four flights up and just below the balcony at the top of the tower. Of course, as I’m sure you will have anticipated, reader, he was rooming with Draco.

  
_I suppose that’s hardly a bad thing_ , Harry thought. _Maybe it will give us the opportunity to make up for all the bad years._

  
He entered the room and found all his possessions, minus his new owl Amicus, placed next to his bed. The beds lay on one side of the room, while a large desk with two chairs opposite each other remained on the other side. In silence, Harry and Draco unpacked their belongings. Clothes were levitated into wardrobes, just for practice, and Harry placed his beloved broomstick on the wall-mounted rack. Being especially careful, Harry lifted his newly bought textbooks, quill, ink, potions ingredients, and brand new (but well-needed) pewter cauldron onto his half of the desk. A stack of parchment was placed in the middle of the table, with a hand-written note atop it.

  
_I have left this at your disposal in the hopes that you will use it wisely and frequently in your studies._  
  
_-MM_

  
Harry smiled and added his own parchment to the pile. Next to the parchment lay a brand new copy of “A Guide to Teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts.” A second note lay inside it.

  
_Study this carefully and remember you are assisting your friends in the outcome of their futures. Be assured that you are a natural at this. From what I have seen, your previous students have learnt a great amount._  
  
_-MM_

  
At least this was a relief. She wasn’t asking him to go into teaching quite blindly. Also on the positive side, she clearly trusted him.

  
Before I leave you for this chapter, reader, I would like to inform you of something Harry Potter did not realise. While he was working, the Boy Who Lived was being watched. No, I can assure you he was not in any danger then. No, simply by Mr. Draco Malfoy, who seemed to have taken quite an interest. He seemed almost, dear I say it, mesmerized. But, what can I say? He was falling head over heels for our favourite Wizarding celebrity, a fact I’m sure you have already established. Let this be not mystery to you, reader.

  
Draco’s ecstasy at the discovery of the two boys’ sharing of rooms should hardly come as a surprise to you by now. But perhaps you should be informed, it was then that he was the happiest he had felt since Harry saved his life.

  
I think I’ll leave you there, reader. We can come back to this story in the next chapter. I do hope to see you there.

 


	2. A New Discovery

I would very much like to welcome you back, reader, but before we begin, I request it of you that you imagine this: Hogwarts, now satisfied by the presence of its students, was peaceful as said students slept. But as the sun peeked over the horizon and the birds began to sing with undying enthusiasm, the atmosphere became a whole new one. In their dormitories, students felt their excitement growing inside of them. They woke each other up, stared out their dormitory windows at the rising sun and rushed to get ready for breakfast. I must admit, it was an atmosphere that I truly relished. But please return with me now to the top of the East Tower.

 

Harry Potter remained oblivious to the excitement flourishing around him. Draco Malfoy, however, did not. The tall boy climbed out of bed and found his robes. He was nervous, no doubt. Though I also detected something else. As his eyes flickered back and forth between his stack of textbooks and Harry’s sleeping form, it became quite obvious to me that he felt fear. _If Harry were to wake up, would he forget the day before and go back to being his nemesis? Could he live with himself if that were to happen?_

 

By the time Harry had awoken and put on his glasses, Draco had left. In an oddly good mood despite this discovery, he dressed and gathered up his belongings so he could head down to breakfast. It wasn’t until he arrived in the common room that he discovered he had been the last to wake. Ron sat waiting for him, inspecting his timetable.

 

“Morning Harry,” Ron grinned at him cheerily. “We appear to have double transfiguration first.” Harry nodded sleepily. 

 

“Lets get breakfast first, though. I’m starved.” Ron agreed and leapt enthusiastically towards the disapparation plate.

 

“See you there.” And he was gone. Harry blinked before realising that, _hang on_ , this wasn’t the Gryffindor common room, and grimaced as he followed Ron’s suit. He had always hated that stomach-twisting sensation.

 

As Harry sat down for breakfast, he noticed that the majority of the younger students were watching him and whispering. Now, I do hope, reader, that you can understand this. After all, our dearest Harry Potter saved the Wizarding world and if you saw him, wouldn’t you be talking about him, too?

 

"I heard that the headmistress spoke to all the students in their common rooms yesterday." Luna turned to him. "She's made a request that they leave you alone, so don't be offended by their whispering." Harry nodded thankfully at this information. He had to admit; he found the whispering most unpleasant.

 

Hermione tapped him on the arm to get his attention. "Are you ready for teaching today?"

 

"No," Harry admitted, shaking his head. "I have a free period after potions, though, so I'll organise it then." Hermione simply nodded. Harry turned back to his cereal, a mixture of nerves and excitement growing inside him. At the very least, it was assuring to know that if he was unable to help his peers, Hermione could definitely be trusted for the task.

 

I'd like you to know now that what Harry had not noticed was the absence of a certain blonde haired boy whom you and I both know all to well. Instead, Draco sat in the transfiguration class with a now empty teacup in his hand, waiting. He was transfiguring his upside down cup into a turtle and back when the other students walked in.

 

"Hi Draco! What are you doing here so early?" Pansy plonked down beside him. "Nice turtle, by the way." He smirked at the compliment.

 

"Just practicing." He shrugged, ignoring her raised eyebrow. Before she could say any more, Professor McGonagall walked in to class, followed by their new transfiguration teacher.

 

"I must remind you that it is expected of you pair up with you roommate for as many classes as possible," she informed them. Ron let out a groan of defeat. "I can assure youit will assist your learning, Mr. Weasley. And should anyone need any extra tutoring, I am right around the corner. Potter knows the password.” She nodded at the boy. In all truthfulness, Harry did not know the password at all, though he simply had to assume it was one of Dumbledore’s previous creations. Lemon Drops, perhaps. “As you all know, this is Professor Hartung, your new transfiguration teacher. I have no doubt you will be correctly paired and ready to learn within fifteen seconds.” She glanced around the room. “Well, get moving then.” And with a swish of her robes, she left the room. There was a flurry of movement as the students organized themselves next to their partners. Draco sat so still that Harry wondered whether he’d been put under a Full Body-Bind.

 

“Alright, students.” Professor Hartung called them to attention. “Today we will simply run through things you have learnt during your first six years. I will hand you various objects, I expect you to transfigure each item into the item listed on your paper. You will be peer assessing each transfigured item with a score out of five.” A sheet of paper with a neat, hand-written table levitated towards each desk. Harry pulled out his quill and scrawled his name at the top in his awfully messy writing.

 

True to her word, Professor Hartung handed out six items to each student. They were a needle, a cup, a feather, a stick, a turnip and a platter. Harry looked at his parchment and sighed. He already knew he would make a fool of himself in front of Draco. But then it occurred to him, _why did he care?_ You and I both know the answer to that, reader, but it is with great misfortune that we cannot tell him. Perhaps, however, had we been able to, it may have made his year a whole lot easier.

 

When Harry looked to his right, he realized Draco had already transfigured two items. Desperate to catch up, Harry quickly transfigured the needle into a match. Satisfied with what he believed to be an immaculate match, he proceeded. It wasn’t until he reached the stick that he began having problems. He was well aware that he needed to turn it into a bowl, but for some reason, his bowl was just… _long._ When Draco placed his wand down, Harry simply sighed in defeat and carried out dreadful attempts to transfigure the final two items. Aware that Draco was watching him, Harry handed him his parchment and began assessing Draco’s work. There was just one issue: all of his items were brilliant. In fact, Harry couldn’t find a single flaw. So instead, he simply wrote ‘5’ in every square. By the end of it, Harry was somewhat irritated. He shoved the paper back at Draco, muttering a disgruntled “well done.” When his own paper was handed back to him, his mood only worsened. Sure, the first three items had neat ‘5’s next to them, but from there on, it simply became progressively worse. Harry groaned and smashed his face into the table. He couldn’t believe he was this bad. _Serves me right for letting Hermione do all the work last year,_ Harry thought bitterly.

 

“Would you like me to help you?” The question was so quiet that Harry was unsure whether or not he had really heard it. He looked up to see Draco watching him cautiously. “I mean, you seem to be struggling, so, I thought maybe I could tutor you after classes.” Draco hesitated. “You don’t have to of course, I just thought I’d offer.” He looked away, embarrassed.

 

“No, I’d like that. Help would be great, thanks.” Harry nodded. Draco’s shoulder’s dropped with relief.

 

_At least that’s one small bit of embarrassment I can avoid,_ Draco thought. _Rejection from Harry Potter, imagine the rumours._ And imagine the rumours indeed. Had there been witnesses, at least.

 

Harry, on the other hand, was thinking of very different things. _Draco is being nice to me. Are we friends? Is he just putting on a show to make it seem as if he wants to be friends?_

 

To no one’s surprise, Hermione had also managed to produce all perfect items. In record time, even. By the time one and a half hours had passed and Harry had managed to get a successful transfiguration of all six objects after a preposterous number of attempts and a ridiculously rapid series of note-taking from his text book, the bell rang to indicate that the period was over. Harry sighed and stuffed his things back into his bag, following his friends out.

 

“If I keep having to work that hard in class, I’m not going to ever have the energy to apparate in and out of our dorm.” Ron groaned. Harry couldn’t help but agree. Hermione smiled sympathetically.

 

“You’ll be fine. We have potions with Professor Slughorn next anyway. I’m sure he’ll have an energy replenishing potion for you,” she told them.

 

Hermione was almost right. When they arrived, they were asked to identify ten different potions based on colour, smell and reactions with various items. Many of them were medical potions and as you and I know, reader, Harry has had enough casualties to have plenty of experience with those. Using this to his advantage, Harry scored a more-than-satisfactory result with eight correct. Much to his annoyance, he discovered that Draco, who was also assigned to be his potions partner, had scored a nine.

 

Their final task was to work in pairs to produce a small quantity of Vitamix potion. Slughorn lended each pair a copper cauldron for the task. Harry, who volunteered to prepare the ingredients, was humming to himself quietly while reading the instructions. As it was a very simple task, most pairs managed to produce a perfect concoction. Seamus and Zachariah, on the other hand, did not. Instead, their sludge bounced out of the cauldron and onto the floor, before blowing up at Seamus’ face. Highly amused by the occurrence, Professor Slughorn laughed it off and assisted the cleanup.  

 

It occurred to Harry that he would probably need the potion and poured himself a vial. The bell sent the students on to their next class, but Harry headed back to his dormitory. Downing his Vitamix potion, he shook his head at the rush of energy and apparated into the common room.

 

_Thank Merlin I have a free period._ Harry thought. _Now to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to get eleven students to do for a double period._

Harry made his way up to his dormitory and slumped down into the chair, wasting no time in picking up “ _A Guide To Teaching Defense Against The Dark Arts.”_ Based on his previous two classes, he already had a general idea of what he wanted to do. So for the next forty minutes, he got to work copying out a table.

 

In order to produce a little diversity, reader, while we wait for Harry to complete his project I would like to take you now to our friend Ronald Weasley. Ron, also having a free period in his refusal to take Arithmancy, lay on his bed with his head in his hands. He wasn’t sure what to think. He simply did not understand. How was it, that after he and Harry spent seven years hating Draco Malfoy, Harry was willing to befriend him? _Sure,_ he thought. _The war changed people. But it can’t possibly have turned any evil people good. He hexed me and he injured Harry… He even betrayed Hogwarts! He’s a spoilt, pathetic brat._

You see, reader, in many ways, Ron was right. The war never did turn anyone good who was not already. But what Ron did not realize, was that Draco Malfoy had never been evil. He was, however, controlled by his father. Perhaps he was power seeking once or twice. But this is beside the point. Draco was not the bad person that everyone believed he was. He truly had a good heart. Please understand this, reader. Do not forget. But in the meantime, let us return the time and place in which the bell has informed Harry of lunchtime.

 

To Harry, hearing the bell came as a huge relief. His head was sore from stress, and he knew that lunch and a cup of tea would do the trick. With Ron in tow, Harry made his way down to the Great Hall and seated himself on the end.

 

“Oh Merlin, no,” Ron protested to no effect. Harry looked up to see Pansy Parkinson pulling Draco over to them. From where Harry sat, she seemed to simply be chatting to him. Let me inform you of what was really happening.

 

“Draco, if you like him, you may as well sit with him,” Pansy pleaded. All she wanted was for him to be happy.

 

“I don’t like him.” Draco mumbled. Pansy rolled her eyes.

 

“You do, though. We both know it. Why are you worried? I don’t care.” Pansy turned around and dragged him by the wrist. “Just come and sit.” Draco gave in. The only other option would be to sit alone at the Slytherin table, and he didn’t quite fancy that.

 

When he seated himself down (as far from Harry as he could, without being impolite, I might just add), he slumped against the cold wood table. Pansy knew he liked Harry. Of all people, it had to be Pansy. _If she utters a word to **anyone,** she will be facing the worst hex of her lifetime, _Draco thought ferociously.

 

The loud chatter in the Great Hall buzzed in Harry’s ears as he attempted to pay attention to Hermione’s obnoxious rhapsodizing about Arithmancy.

 

“Oh! Harry, I almost forgot. Have you finished planning today’s lesson? Do you need any help?” Hermione grabbed his arm. Harry grinned, finally getting the opportunity to be outwardly proud of himself.

 

“Yes, all planned and ready to go,” he stated. “I’ll be okay for today, but I think I’ll need help for Dumbledore’s Army on the weekend.” Hermione agreed immediately.

 

“I look forward to it, then!”

 

\--

 

When the end of lunch rolled around, Harry became more and more nervous. All of the eighth year studnets had gathered in the centre of the Hall and were waiting expectantly. A certain familiar grey cat sat perched on the teacher’s dining table. _Of course McGonagall is here,_ Harry thought. _I suppose I should hardly be surprised._

Trying to distract himself from the waiting students, he muttered “depulso” and moved the four tables to the side of the room before clearing his throat.

 

“Uh, as you’re well aware, I will be teaching you Defence Against The Dark Arts this year. To get everyone started, I’d just like to assess each student’s abilities so I can get an idea of where to start. If you could each take one of these papers, that would be great.” Harry turned away and grabbed quill. “You will be performing the following spells: a disarming spell, a Full Body-Bind followed by its counter-spell, a shield charm, a levitating charm and a patronus. These must then be attempted non-verbally. If everyone is ready to start, can everyone please sort themselves into their usual pairs?” The group did as he said, much to his surprise. “Feel free to practice while I come around.”

 

Harry wandered over to Hermione and Luna and took their papers, naming each one before realizing that Draco was following him. He decided against commenting, but slapped himself mentally for not realizing that Draco wouldn’t have a partner. All the same, he remained particularly conscious of Draco’s eyes following him as he moved around the room.

 

“Okay, Luna, could you go first? Hermione, don’t protect yourself.” Luna bobbed her head and turned to face Hermione, who suddenly looked very nervous as she lowered her wand.

 

“Expelliarmus!” The wand in Hermione’s hand flew towards Luna. Harry marked a small ‘5’ on Luna’s paper.

 

As he worked through the spells for each student, he realized most of his friends could only carry out the most basic of non-verbal spells. By the time only Draco was remaining for the assessment, none of the students had been able to cast any spell non-verbally apart from a disarming spell.

  
Draco turned to him when Hermione had taken his paper, preparing to scribe for him.

 

“When you’re ready, then.” Draco nodded, a confident look remaining on his face.

 

“Expelliarmus! Petrificus totalus! Finite!” In quite quick succession, Harry was disarmed, binded and then unbinded.

  
“All fives,” Harry told Hermione. When he had his wand back, he waited for Draco to wipe his palms and stand ready again, before saying: “aqua eructo!” A jet of water erupted from his wand.

 

Draco responded with a surprised “protego!”

 

“Five again, Hermione.”

 

“Levicorpus!”Harry felt himself floating into the air, but he could see the strain on Draco’s face. By the time he was on the ground again, Draco was breathing hard.

 

“Five. Are you okay to keep going?” Harry was taken over by concern, but before he could move, Draco stood up and raised his wand.

 

“Expecto Patronum,” He muttered, but only a thin white light briefly flowed from his wand. Draco closed his eyes and tried again. “Expecto Partonum!” This time it worked. An incorporeal shield erupted from his wand.

But, reader, you must also know by now that Draco Malfoy was perfectly capable of producing a corporeal patronus. It was his fear of showing its true form that stopped him. I will allow you to deduct from that what you will, for now.

 

“Four, Hermione.”

 

With a quick flick of Draco’s hand that Harry did not see, his wand was out of his hand again. Harry smiled, amused by the fact that he had been caught off guard in his own class. “Five.” Draco scrunched his face up in concentration, but Harry wasn’t placed in a Body-Bind. Just like everyone else, the only spell he could perform non-verbally was the disarming spell. “That’s fine, everyone is on the same page. Thanks everyone, we’ll have a look at duelling now.”

 

“Can you do any of the spells non-verbally, Harry?” Cho spoke up. Harry nodded shyly. “Could you show us?” Harry sighed.

 

“Come on, Harry, don’t be modest. It’s all for learning purposes.” Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what he was like. So he nodded and pointed his wand at Cho, who’s own wand flew from her hand. Then he pointed at Ron, who gave a nervous “oh, Merlin.”

 

_Levicorpus. **Leviocorpus,**_ Harry thought. Then he began to rise above the ground, the group watching on.

 

“Brilliant!” Ron laughed. Harry smiled and put him back down. Then he pointed at Neville.

 

_Petrificus totalus. Petrificus totalus! **Petrificus Totalus!**_ Harry smiled when Neville keeled over, now in a full body-bind. After successfully completing the reverse spell and managing to shield himself from Hermione’s hex, Harry attempted a patronus.

 

_Expecto Patronum! **Expecto Patronum!**_ An uncorporeal shield patronus formed at the tip of his wand. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t produce a full corporeal patronus. He sighed and shrugged. “That seems to be it.” The group clapped.

 

“That’s still brilliant, Harry!”

 

“Wicked!”

 

Harry looked around at everyone. “You all did well, so let’s just do some duelling practice for the next half hour before the class finishes.” Hermione made her way over to him.

 

“You did really well, Harry. I didn’t know you could do that.” She grinned happily. “And I’m so glad you’re teaching us.” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched Professor McGonagall transfigure out of her feline form and make her way towards him.

 

“Well done, Mr. Potter. You seem to have things well under control. I trust that you are making use of the book I left you?” Harry nodded. “Very well, if you are in need of assistance, please do come and see me.”

 

“Of course, Professor,” he said, before she walked out of the hall. “Come on Hermione, I want to see you duel against Luna.” Harry grinned. He hoped that all of his Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons from now on could be as good as this one.

 

\--

 

Before I leave you for this chapter, reader, I would like to show you one last scene. It is, as you might discover, an important moment in Harry and Draco’s relationship. So let us go now and see the situation that Harry found himself in after the sun set that evening.

 

“Draco?” Harry said, cautious of disturbing him. Draco hummed in response. “I don’t suppose, if you still want to, you could help me with the transfiguration homework?”

 

While Draco suppressed his happiness, I have to inform you, reader: the homework itself was of no importance. It is rather instead the conversation that followed.

 

“Harry?” The brown haired lad lifted his head. “Do you still hate me?” Draco asked worriedly. Harry snorted.

 

“I never did, I don’t think.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Well, sure, you were awful sometimes, but I’m not sure that even matters anymore.” Harry paused. “Hermione’s right, I think. The war has changed all of us. It has torn people apart but also brought people together. I guess I’d like to be friends. Maybe it would be an indication that we have all improved as people,” Harry mused. Draco laughed quietly. “What?”

 

“It’s just cliché, that’s all.” Draco shrugged. Harry stared at him. “Don’t you believe me?” But Harry shook his head.

 

“No, it’s not that. I just realized that I hadn’t heard you laugh yet this year.” Harry smiled. “I’m going to bed. I’ll help you with that patronus later.”

 

Reader, would you believe me if I told you a fascinating fact? Because there is something you should know. Harry Potter made a discovery that evening. He fell in love with a certain sound, as against his will as that may have been. He fell in love with the sound of Draco Malfoy’s true laughter. And trust me, he will never fall out of love with it.

 

Farewell until the next chapter, reader.


	3. Apparition and Patronuses

Reader, I ask you to pay close attention now. Take from these occurrences what you will, and come to your own conclusions for the time being. The story I am about to tell you is important. Not only for Draco and Harry, but also also for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And tread lightly, reader, for we cannot afford to make incorrect assumptions.

 

Harry Potter was confused. He seemed to be getting on unusually well with Draco, despite their seven years of enmity. It didn’t hep at all that, due to their similar aspirations, they were paired together for all of Harry’s classes. As he sat on his bed staring at the Marauder’s Map following his third day of lessons back at Hogwarts, he thought of the blonde haired boy who sat not far from him on his own bed.

 

_I don’t understand. How is it possible that I am able to forgive him so easily? Has the war truly changed me that much? Is Ron right in believing that he hasn’t changed one bit?_ Harry thought. He felt a sudden urge to talk to the boy, to make some sort of contact. He longed to sit with him and engage in a meaningful conversation. _I must be going insane._

“What are you reading?” Draco’s voice yanked Harry from his thoughts. He looked up to find Draco watching him.

 

“Oh, nothing of interest, really.” Harry tapped the map with his wand, muttering “mischief managed” under his breath, before putting it on the side of his desk. Draco was disappointed by the lack of willingness to tell confide in him.

 

_But I suppose I could hardly expect him to spill his secrets._ Draco scolded himself. _Merlin, Draco, you’re only just on speaking terms._

“Are you hungry?” Harry stood up. “I’m going to the kitchens.” Draco nodded, eager to get an opportunity to walk with Harry.

 

“Sounds good to me,” he replied and followed Harry into the dimly lit common room. In all truthfulness, Draco had no idea where the kitchen was. It slipped his mind to ask, however when, much to both boys’ disgust, Hermione and Ron were curled up together on one of the common room’s couches, snogging. Harry snorted.

 

“Hi love birds,” He laughed. _At least they are happy together._ The pair quickly moved apart, Hermione going bright red. Before they could mutter a response, however, Harry quickly apparated out of the room, Draco grabbing onto his arm just in time. _Save them the embarrassment,_ He thought. Regaining their balance, the unlikely pair set off, Marauder’s Map in Harry’s hand.

 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” He whispered, followed by: “lumos.” He continued to walk as he watched for Argus Filch’s name on the map. Finding that he was far from the basement, he breathed out. _This will be easy, the-_ Harry quickly stopped himself. Footsteps with the name “Carvel Spering” below it were walking towards them on the map. Harry quickly whispered: “nox” and dragged Draco behind a pillar. Sensing danger, Draco held his breath. The burly teacher walked past, oblivious to the two boys. Harry placed a silencing charm around them and pulled Draco along.

 

“I don’t like this,” Draco said. Harry laughed.

 

“Clearly not a Gryffindor, are you?” When they arrived at the painting of the bowl of fruit, Harry let them in, muttering a quiet “mischief managed” and tapping his map.

 

“Far from it.” Draco looked around at the large room. “I’ve never been here.” A large number of house elves gathered at Harry’s feet.

 

“Harry Potter! How can we help Harry Potter, sir?” One of the smallest elves spoke up. He grinned.

 

“Draco and I missed dinner today. Would it be okay if you could bring us some food?” Harry was telling the truth. After their herbology lesson that afternoon, they disappeared off to the library and quickly lost track of the time. Neither of them were very good at the subject, you see, but Draco had been determined to improve and convinced Harry to come along with him.

 

Truth be told, reader, that wasn’t the only reason of Draco’s. You see, Mr. Malfoy also wanted Harry to himself. He was jealous of the attention Harry would otherwise give to his two friends. Keep this information in mind, reader. It may prove to be useful.

 

By the time they had returned, both boys had pages of parchment with notes, one in messy handwriting and the other in perfectly formed calligraphy. It wasn’t until they arrived at the Great Hall and found it empty that they realised their lateness. Which, after various ordinary events, some of which you now know, lead them to the kitchen.

 

Of course, the house elves were more than happy to comply to Harry’s requests. They quickly gathered up far more food than necessary and a bottle of pumpkin juice each. Harry thanked them graciously. They all became flustered, unused to being thanked. As the two boys made their way out, Harry forgot about the Map in his pocket, instead listening to the rhythmic footsteps of Draco’s feet. He turned to Draco when they arrived at the apparating plate.

 

“Ready?” Draco nodded and gripped Harry’s arm as he turned on the spot. Where Harry ended up, however, was not the eighth year common room. Instead, a sharp pain shot through his left shoulder as he collided with a stone wall. He groaned. That would be dislocated. For a moment, neither boy moved. Then Draco lit his wand.

 

“Hang on, this isn’t right. Did you take us to the wrong place?” Draco began to panic, oblivious to Harry’s discomfort. Harry shook his head quickly, grimacing.

 

“No, that isn’t possible. McGonagall said that the plate was enchanted to only bring us to the common room.” Harry scrunched up his face, and performed a quiet numbing charm. He looked around at the large, grey room. It looked like one of the dungeons. “Either something has gone wrong with her enchantment or it has been purposely tampered with.” Harry lit his wand. Draco turned to him, concerned by the suggestion. 

 

“You don’t think someone’s after us, do you?” Fear began to set in and Draco slumped against the wall. “I’m not brave like you, I don’t think I could handle that.” It occurred to Harry that this was a compliment, but he chose to ignore it, aware that they could be in danger.

 

“It’s okay, it should be easy enough for us to get out of here.” Harry reassured him, pulling out the map. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

 

“Pardon?” Draco was worried again. _Oh no, of course he had this all planned out. We aren’t friends, he was simply trying to catch me off-guard._

 

“It’s the password for my map,” Harry informed him.

 

“Wha- oh,” Draco felt stupid. He stood up and looked over Harry’s shoulder. “So it’s a map.”

 

“We’re in one of the sealed-off corridors. It looks like we’re going to need to walk for a bit.” Harry turned to Draco, finding himself ridiculously close to his face. He stepped back, embarrassed. “Uh, are you okay to walk?” Draco nodded.

 

“I’m fine.” And so they set off, still carrying the food from the kitchen. It took ten minutes for them to reach the entrance to the corridor, where rubble lay scattered across the floor.

 

“Weren’t these corridors sealed a year ago?” Harry looked around. “I’m sure Neville had said something about Snape or the Carrows blocking them all off.” Draco flinched at the mention of his deceased godfather. “Sorry,” Harry muttered.

 

“Never mind whether they were sealed or not, lets just get out of here.” Draco said, hurrying through the entrance way. “Which way to the common room?” Harry shook his head.

  
“We can’t go back to the common room. I don’t trust the apparition plate.” Draco frowned at Harry’s insistent tone.

 

“Then where do you want to go?” Draco was a long way out of his comfort zone.

 

“I dislocated my shoulder, we need to go to the Hospital Wing,” Harry informed Draco as the numbing charm began wearing off.

 

“Merlin, Harry. Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry ignored the comment, allowed Draco to take the food he was carrying and pointed him in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

 

When they arrived, Madam Pomfrey, notified of their entrance by a charm, strode over.

 

“Mr. Potter, what have you done this time?” She sighed and pointed him towards the bed. “Mr. Malfoy,” She greeted him, appearing somewhat confused by his presence. “Don’t tell me you cast a hex on him?” He shook his head, somewhat offended by the question.

 

“I’ve dislocated my shoulder, Madam Pomfrey,” Harry informed her, saving Draco from replying. He told her the whole story as she mended it.

 

“Well, I suppose you’ll be staying here tonight for precautionary measures then.” Madam Pomfrey seemed to be on the same page as Harry. The pair nodded. “I shall see to it that Professor McGonagall arrives early in the morning to investigate the matter. In the mean time, get some rest.” She turned away, leaving the two boys on the bed.

 

“Thank you,” Harry called after her. She nodded curtly before disappearing into her quarters. “Are you still hungry?” He asked, turning back to Draco.

Draco smirked.“Of course.”

 

Now, reader, you should know that Harry had failed to notice an important name on the map. He had been ignorant, you see, because on the map ran a set of footsteps that belonged to someone not welcome at Hogwarts. It wasn’t until he retold the story to Hermione at breakfast the following morning that he realised just how stupid he had been.

 

“Did you see any names out of place on the map?” Hermione asked. She was determined to get to the bottom of this. Professor McGonagall had informed the group that there were no longer any issues with the apparation space by the time she was able to assess it. Harry closed his eyes and put his face in his hands.

 

“I didn’t even think of that,” he admitted. Ron rolled his eyes.

 

“No wonder you weren’t sorted into Ravenclaw, mate.”

 

Draco, who was sitting on the other side of Harry, jumped to his defence. “Neither of us thought of it, actually. We were far more concerned with the prospect of being attacked at any moment.”

 

“Well, you’re hardly a Ravenclaw yourself, Malfoy,” Ron retorted, glaring.

 

“Shall we compare grades, then?” Draco raised his eyebrows.

 

“Stop it, both of you!” Hermione cut in. “Don’t be rude, Ron, and don’t take his bait, Draco. I would like to avoid as much conflict as possible this year.” Ron, now highly offended, stood and walked off, leaving half of his breakfast still on his plate. Hermione sighed.

 

“What’s wrong with him?” Draco frowned.

 

“He still dislikes you,” Hermione told him. “I suppose he believes you’re planning something. He doesn’t like you being so close to Harry.” Draco’s frown deepened. “I should go and find him. See you in charms.” Hermione stood up and went after Ron.

 

“So you’re becoming close, huh?” Pansy winked at the two boys. Harry turned bright red.

 

“Sod off, Parkinson,” Draco glared at her.

 

“Oh, come off it, Draco. We both know you-” Pansy was cut off by the Daily Prophet flying at her face.

 

“I highly recommend that you refrain from talking.”

 

“Whatever, Draco. But don’t go denying it.” Pansy sing-songed. Harry just looked confused.

 

“Let’s go, Harry.” Draco pulled him up.

 

“Just look around, Draco. Everyone else agrees.” When Harry followed Pansy’s suggestion he realised people were pointing at the two of them and whispering. Some students were giggling.

 

“Come on.” He dragged Harry, who was half way through a piece of toast that he had quickly pulled off the table, out of the hall.

 

“Don’t deny what, exactly?” Harry asked, not bothering to protest.

 

“Nothing, don’t listen to her,” Draco said. “She’s totally bonkers.”

 

But, reader, can I be assured you know perfectly well that this was a falsehood? Do you remember that only a few days earlier, Pansy had notified Draco of her knowledge surrounding his feelings towards the Boy Who Lived? Because it is important for you to understand, Draco was scared. He feared that if Harry discovered his secret, he would never speak to him again. He forced himself to be content with their current arrangement. He would not risk the prospect of losing their friendship just for the sake of a relationship that was incredibly improbable. So you see, reader, Draco was far from brave. He did not take risks. And that is why he kept Harry with him all day, steering him clear of Miss Parkinson. In fact, it wasn’t until she held him back after their last class; Arithmancy, that he allowed himself to speak with her.

 

“Draco, a word, please?” Pansy plastered on a smile, making Draco narrow his eyes.

 

“What do you want, Parkinson?” She frowned at his rudeness and pulled him along towards their common room entrance.

 

“Not on first name terms anymore, then?” When Draco only glared at her, Pansy continued. “Okay, fine. You need to believe me when I say this, Draco. He likes you.” Draco tried to deny her comment, but Pansy cut him off. “No, stop. If you don’t believe me, I will go and speak to Granger and Weasley. And don’t even consider the possibility of stopping me. You can’t access the girls’ dorms, remember. And it’s hardly likely that you’ll be able to protect the red-head, because Weasley isn’t going to trail after you at your request the way Harry does.” Draco frowned.

 

“Fine, but don’t talk to Weasley about it. You’ll soon find that you’re wrong.” Draco grimaced. “He probably still likes Chang, anyway.”

 

“Whatever, Draco,” Pansy snorted. “See you around.” She disapparated, leaving Draco distressed and irritated. Then he realised that he was stuck. Not because he was incapable of apparating, but because he didn’t trust himself enough to do so. Sighing, he made his way towards the library, where he buried himself in a book on Dark Creatures.

 

Back in the common room, Pansy remained true to her word. Feeling only slightly guilty, she interrupted Hermione and Ron’s cuddling.

 

“Hermione, could I talk to you for a minute, please?” She did her best to keep a relaxed expression. Despite her confusion, Hermione agreed and followed her to the study room. Placing a silencing charm around them, Pansy turned to the curly-haired girl. “You’re going to have to trust me on this. I’m concerned for Draco’s well-being and I’ll have to ask you for information about Harry. You just have to promise me not to speak a word of it to anyone.”

 

“What is it?” Hermione’s asked, her concern growing rapidly. If a friends of hers was in danger, she would do anything to help them. “Of course I won’t tell anyone.”

 

“Look, Draco is head over heels for Harry, I’m sure of it. I need to know if Harry returns those feelings, because he’s just the sort of person to punish himself for it.”

 

“Gosh,” Hermione breathed out. “I don’t know, to be honest. It would hardly come as a surprise if he did, though, considering everything.” Hermione thought about it for a moment. “But if he is, he doesn’t know it himself yet.” Pansy frowned at this news.

 

“Right.” She looked around before removing the silencing charm. “Look, could you try to find out for me? I’ll keep Draco out of the dorm while you talk to Harry.” Hermione agreed to the plan and the headed out. “Did you see Draco come in, Ron?”

 

“Nope,” he said, wary of Pansy’s interest. She frowned, before her shoulders dropped in realisation.

 

“Right, he won’t apparate in.” She disapparated before either Ron or Hermione could ask any questions. Ron looked at his girlfriend, confused. She just shrugged and headed up the steps towards Harry’s dorm. When she opened the door, she found him leaning over his desk writing notes for himself. As she got closer, she realised the notes were on the creatures they were supposed to be studying in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

 

“How’s everything going?” She asked, summoning Draco’s chair and sitting next to him. Harry looked up at her and shrugged.

  
“Things are okay, I guess.” He looked back at his papers. “Teaching is time consuming, but I suppose it will help me learn everything I need for the exams.” Hermione nodded in agreement.

 

“Hey, can I talk to you about Draco?” She asked carefully. Harry looked at her.

 

“Why?” He began to fiddle with his quill subconsciously.

 

“Because, as your friend, you should know that I fully support you and I wouldn’t judge you based on who you like or how you identify.”

 

Harry frowned. “What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?”

 

Hermione sighed and tried a more direct approach. “I would like you to know that if you like Draco, it’s totally fine.”

 

“Yeah, I guess I like- Oh.” Harry’s face smoothed out. “You mean if I _like_ like him.”

 

Hermione pulled face. “I mean if you’re attracted to him.” Harry shook his head quickly.

 

“No, of course not.” His voice wobbled, making Hermione to raise her eyebrow.

 

“Are you sure?” She put her hand on his arm. “I would never tell anyone if you wanted it to be a secret. Please be honest with me.”

 

Harry looked at her for a moment, but shook his head again. “I don’t know, Hermione. I truly and honestly do not know.”  
  
Be assured, reader, that he really was telling the truth. Unused to experiencing feelings for another guy, he didn’t know what he felt. For the first time, Harry was unable to distinguish between the want for friendship and the want for a relationship. Hermione understood.

 

“Have a think about it, alright?” Hermione stood up. “Let me know if you need anyone to talk to for whatever reason. I’m right here if I’m needed.”

 

When she left, Harry dropped his quill on the table and wandered over to his bed, pulling out his Marauders Map.

 

_What if I **do** like Draco, though? Ron would hate me. And the feelings would most certainly be unrequited. Merlin, that would make things incredibly awkward, _Harry cringed. To take his mind off it for a while, he whispered: “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good” and tapped his map with his wand. He smiled at the title, remembering the nicknames his family had taken on.

 

As Harry scanned the map, his eyes fell on Draco’s name in the library. _Hang on,_ he thought. _What’s he doing there? We have our own library in the study room._ Harry watched as Pansy Parkinson walked up to him and paused for a moment before they left together. _He’s probably dating Parkinson, anyway._ He sighed, stood up, cleared the pages of the map and collected his text book to read downstairs. It wasn’t until he had taken a seat and opened the book before Blaise spoke up.

 

“Pott- Uh, I mean Harry?” Harry looked up at the sound of his name. “Do you think you could give me a hand with a corporeal patronus? I can’t seem to get it right.” Blaise felt extremely embarrassed. He may not have been the only eighth year student who couldn’t produce a corporeal patronus, but he didn’t like not knowing how to do things.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Much to Blaise’s surprise, Harry stood up. Remembering back to Remus Lupin’s words in his third school year, Harry began speaking. “Think of the happiest thing you can possibly remember. You have to stay focused. If the memory isn’t happy enough or if you lose concentration, the patronus will not form. Give it a go now.”

 

It took three attempts and as many tips as Harry could produce. With most of the other students watching on, Blaise recited: “Expecto patronum!” All of a sudden a silver fox flew from his wand. Blaise grinned at it. Everyone cheered and watched as it bounced around the room, so focused on the graceful creature that they didn’t notice Pansy and Draco apparating into the room.

 

“Well done, Blaise,” Harry congratulated the boy. “That’s brilliant.”  
  
“Thanks so much, Harry! I really appreciate the help.” Blaise was true to his word. You see, reader, Blaise had always been considered by other students as quite an awful person when really, he wasn’t at all. Sure, he once hated what he had referred to as ‘blood-traitors’, but that side of him was long gone.

 

“Did you teach him to do that, Harry?” Draco asked. Harry looked up to find Draco behind him. He nodded. “I don’t suppose you could help me?”

 

Now, this is important, reader. I will not bore you with any uninteresting occurrences, or the many attempts of Draco’s to produce his patronus. You really should, however, experience the final attempt. I’ll say it again, reader. Take from this occurrence what you will, for now.

 

“It’s fine,” Harry reassured the taller boy after what felt like the hundredth failed attempt. He reminded himself to be patient, for Draco’s sake. They stood in their dormitory, Draco becoming more and more irritated by the moment. “Calm down, breathe, and try again.” Draco closed is eyes and counted slowly. “Talk me through your memory.”

 

“Uh, it’s of my mother. A long time ago, she taught me to fly. She bought me my first broomstick and I spent days flying around her in the garden.” Draco looked at the ground. He rarely spoke of his childhood. Harry nodded.

 

“Well imagine that as clearly as you can. Let the memory fill you up and try again.”

 

Draco raised his wand and took a deep breath. “Expecto patronum!” A white light flowed from his wand. For a moment, neither boy thought it had worked, but then a four legged creature bounded out. Harry held his breath when he realised what it was. A stag. Thinner and taller than Harry’s, but a stag all the same.

 

“Well done,” Harry finally said, deciding against commenting on the patronus’ form. _It could simply be a coincidence,_ he reminded himself.

 

Draco smiled. “Thank you for helping me.”

 

Know this, reader. It was not a coincidence at all. Draco was well aware of this, but we must allow Harry to come to that conclusion on his own. We cannot interfere. For now, rest easy knowing that Draco Malfoy had fallen far enough in love with Harry Potter for their patronuses to be the same.

 

Stick around, reader, for there are tales of embarrassment, pleasure and wonderment still to come and believe me, you do not want to miss them. 


End file.
